


fast-foward

by dutchydoescoke



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Drunk Sex, F/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10055891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchydoescoke/pseuds/dutchydoescoke
Summary: Jace is a giggly drunk, who knew.But she’s not.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for the [Shadowhunters ficathon](http://ladygawain.livejournal.com/83816.html). Again. The prompt was "Maia/any- tipsy or drunk sex (consensual please)". I have no idea how this happened, I apologize right now.
> 
> title, while not obviously so, is a reference to "New Perspective" by Panic! At The Disco. specifically the line "can we fast-forward to go down on me" because i will never ever be able to forget brendon singing it at SDCC and yelling "that means a blowjob" mid-song.

They’re both well past sober, too much liquor and high off the temporary victory of getting the Soul Sword back, and Maia finds herself in her bed with Jace’s face pressed into her neck. His hands are on her bare hips, pants and underwear long-since abandoned, and Jace is downright _giggling_ , he’s so drunk. Not that she’s any better, because her head is swimming and the world’s gone a little sideways and her mouth’s going numb at this point.

Jace is a giggly drunk, who knew.

But she’s not.

The alcohol always burns on its way down, turns into warmth when it settles in her stomach, and by the time she absorbs it into her bloodstream, it’s liquid fire, pooling in her gut and leaving her itching for someone. Jace, in this case.

She’d laugh a little at the fact that it rhymes, but Jace’s day-old stubble is dragging across her neck where he’s still laughing against her skin and it’s _not helping_. She shoves a hand in his ridiculous haircut and tugs a little, hoping he gets the hint to stop giggling and actually _do_ something.

“Alright, keep your pants on,” he says, though his attempt at irony is lost when he presses his mouth to her neck and she feels the scrape of his teeth against the scars there when she tugs on his hair again in retribution for being a smart-ass.

She’d wonder why she puts up with his bullshit, but Jace chooses _that fucking second_ to trace weapon-callused fingers over her clit and it’s not hard to remember why when his mouth is moving progressively farther south.

His mouth is at her hip when he starts giggling again. Maia barely resists the urge to kill him.

“ _What_?” She’s a little cranky, she’ll admit, but he’s stopped _everything_. There’s not a soul in the world that would blame her for killing him. His free hand taps her tattoo in explanation. “Shut up before I throw your ass out in the hallway naked.”

Jace huffs out another laugh, another _giggle_ , just as high-pitched as the last, and puts his mouth back to work, tongue tracing over the dark blue lines of the crescent moon inked into her skin. He bites it, another terrible attempt at irony, and she tugs on his hair in response.

It feels good, she’ll admit. She just won’t admit it to _him_.

As much as Maia would love to watch Jace’s smug smirk disappear between her thighs, she’s still a little woozy from the alcohol and drops her head back onto the bed a split-second before she feels Jace’s mouth on her. It’s not going to take much for her right now, so she takes her hands out of Jace’s hair and grabs the bedsheets instead. If her claws come out, it’s probably better for her hands to not be near his head.

She’s too dizzy-drunk to focus on much but it feels fucking fantastic. When he seals his mouth around her clit and suck on just the right side of gentle, there’s a ripping noise from her punching a hole in the sheets and her claws are digging into the mattress. There’s sweat gathering at the base of her neck, she can feel it against the sheets and takes a moment to be thankful they’re already ruined.

She’ll worry about them later, when Jace isn’t pushing two fingers into her with a horrific-sounding squelch and dragging his tongue over her and—that’s _it_.

It feels like a free-fall with how it hits her, a combination of it and the haze of alcohol making her head spin. She freezes, breath stuttering and fingers digging further into her mutilated mattress, and clenches down on his fingers, one of her heels digging into his shoulder. Maia bites down on her tongue to keep from making too much noise—she won’t give Jace the satisfaction, damn it. She can’t help the strangled groan that slips out and when she finally comes down, Jace looks far too smug.

Pulling her fingers out of the mattress is a little harder than she expects. Her claws went deep, and there’s pieces of foam scattered around when she finally gets them free so she can flip Jace off. That sets off another giggle fit and she refuses to be held responsible for throwing a pillow at him. She’s still drunk, though, so it skims him and hits her closet door instead.

“Get up here,” she says after another minute of scowling at him. Jace obliges, falling down next to her with all the grace of someone who’s plastered and trying not to show it. “How do you not suck at that when you’re this drunk?”

“Horrific abuse of a dexterity rune,” Jace explains, holding his arm up and gesturing vaguely at a jumble of runes on his side. She has no idea which one he’s talking about but whatever works. She’s not going to complain. “Told you I was good.”

Hitting him with the pillow is _completely_ justified.


End file.
